See and Observe
by marylouleach
Summary: A serial killer is on the loose, John and Sherlock focus on the case, every one is scrambling to find the killer but no one realizes just how close the killer is. Sometimes even the great genius Sherlock Holmes gets it wrong, but what will it cost?
1. Chapter 1 Late Night Visitors

**CHAPTER 1. LATE NIGHT VISITORS**

Most nights for Molly Hooper ended like this, late, and followed by an early morning. Today was somewhat busy, but at least she had company, John and Sherlock popped in wanting to know if she found anything other than what Sherlock had already deduced.

Molly confirmed his findings, and the two men went up to the lab to run some minute sample, probably a spec of dust or pollen. Molly smiled; Sherlock was a genius, and Doctor Watson was no slouch either. It never took them long to crack a case like this.

She hadn't seen DI Lestrade today, he must have had a late night as well. Not that he came in often, but with this serial killer he'd made it a point to be here when Sherlock and John were, just to stay up to speed. He was such a thorough man; it was no wonder why he was a Detective Inspector.

That very snooty dark haired Sergeant and of course Anderson the stuck up forensics officer had been in mostly to nag and double check her findings and tripled check Sherlock's. This is why she didn't feel to bad about how quickly Sherlock chased them out, of course some of the deductions he made concerning the two officers made her blush. It was nice to have Doctor Watson there for crowd control, she was never to good at defusing situations. Despite such incidents, she genuinely liked to be in the company of John and Sherlock it made the lab feel warmer.

As crushes go, she finally grew out of hers, something about unobtainable men, should say a lot about her. After helping Sherlock fake his suicide, Molly's affection for Sherlock had changed into more of a very good friendship nothing close to how he and John were of course, not that those two were a couple oh no.

Thinking of unobtainable men always made her think of the silver haired DI he was always nice to chat with, even if he did most of the chatting and she stumbled over words nervously.

He looked a little scruffy lately, this particular case was wearing on the Yard she could tell by the amount of traffic and STAT orders placed on results. Hopefully they would find a match for the young women she just filed away into the cooler.

Molly had thought of becoming a doctor, but found she lacked the people skills, so here she was in the morgue. The dead weren't looking for release from their pain, they didn't plead and beg her to make it better, to bring back a loved one who expired. No, the bodies who came in were mysteries, they had lives and stories to tell etched all over their skin, in their blood, every callous, or childhood scar and not to mention the interesting tattoo's that some people had in the most awkward of places.

Working with the dead was easier, although identifying bodies wasn't pleasant, when the loved ones came in, but anymore they took photographs and the DI on the case would present them to the family, and of course DNA never lied. DI Lestrade had called Sherlock in on this one she could guess why, each body was scrubbed clean, and the fingerprints burned off. Sherlock discovered each of the women had either dark brown hair naturally or in the last three victims someone took the time to dye the hair of his victim. Even their eye color had been altered.

Molly found contacts, on two of the victims. Who would want brown eyes, she had brown eyes it was so plain, clearly it was a serial killer four bodies in one month, he was busy. Sherlock found the case interesting; serial killers always were to him.

These were the thoughts occupying her mind, as she gathered her keys she'd almost forgot to remove her lab coat. Someone had sent her flowers, and after the string of phone calls from a blocked number it didn't set well with her. She thought of mentioning it to Sherlock and John but they were so busy. And it was probably someone she'd given the wrong idea to. Except their had been those rather unsettling letters. She had changed her number so the phone calls finally stopped. So all was right in the world, like her mum always said 'don't make a fuss'. It would be terribly embarrassing if it was just a childish joke, no need to involve her friends. Anyway she hadn't received a phone call or any mysterious little gifts in a week, so perhaps whomever got the hint.

That's when she realized it, the eerie feeling, the one that tells you, _you aren't alone_, the hair on her neck went prickly. She turned around expecting someone to be standing directly behind her, but there was nothing, just the clean stainless steel table. She frowned, it was getting late, and she obviously had been watching too may scary movies.

Suddenly a gloved hand clamped over her mouth and nose, instinctively she froze.

"Ssssh, it's alright. I wont hurt you, calm down now love." The voice was next to her ear, too close, she could smell the mint in his gum, her heart beating in her chest threatened to explode, she moved against the tight grip around her waist. Her mind flipped through the self-defense class she took back in Uni, at her fathers urging.

She went lax, as if in a faint and the stranger loosened his hold just as you would expect. Molly took the opportunity to bring her now unrestrained elbow back hard into an unsuspecting stomach. It hurt more than she'd anticipated, but the hands let her go completely. She sprang forward, the morgue wasn't a wide area but this man had a hand to his stomach.

"Now you shouldn't have done that love." He grunted.

She made a break for the door, he was standing between her and the exit not wasting time on dialogue she just knew she should get out and now. The hall was empty, and she had left her mobile in her jacket everything was back in the lab. She sprang for the exit, maybe if she pulled the fire alarm.

_**~0~**_

"Sherlock, it is rather late, or maybe early. I doubt Molly is even at the lab." the Doctor was unable to hold back a yawn." And even if she is, what makes you think we are going to be allowed access-"

"John, the equipment there is much more efficient than what I have at home. It wont take too long, I know we cant lift a fingerprint form the contact Lestrade had Anderson look, their was nothing, but if we can narrow down the brand."

"Sherlock there has to be about a million places that -"

"Yes John, but the gum."

"Gum?"

"Yes several wrappers found at every drop site. It's a nicotine gum, if we could match these two things to the same store maybe we can get an idea of where the killer is living."

"Assuming that he's not ordering them online."

"Yes, well this one is good but not that good, we can match the hair dye and like I said find the store that sells all three." John shrugged, it sounded slim but Sherlock had cracked a case on less. "Besides John he wouldn't take the chance to order on line he'd have to have it delivered and he would like to keep a low profile as long as possible. Post offices would have cameras so, I've deduced, he's bought them with cash all in the same place. Within walking distance from his home. A home that had a basement and no neighbors or very old ones to not hear the victims screams. So we find the the store, we can narrow down the house."

"Brilliant!" John rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "How do you know if Molly is still here?"

"It's alright. I have a key." Sherlock grinned.

"I'm not going to even ask how you obtained it."

They started through one of the corridors when both men heard a scream, it was cut off almost immediately but it was distinctively female and coming from the morgue. John reached behind him to pull his browning from his waistband, Sherlock already pushing through the doors.

Both men caught the flicker of movement in the dim corridor; someone was holding a very frightened woman in a white lab coat, not just anyone woman but Molly Hooper. And she was putting up a hell of a fight for some one so small, a hand was over her mouth the sound of Sherlock pushing through the door, caught Molly's attacker by surprise he moved to the fire exit.

Molly tried to buy more time, to put up a better fight, slow the stranger in his movements. Learning from countless case files, that once she was removed from the building her chances at living decrease by over half. Her eyes widened hearing the heavy door at the end of the corridor burst open, oh thank goodness someone was coming. She needed air, the big meaty hands covered her mouth and nose, the lack of air made her panic more. It was no use her attacker pulled open the fire exit door, the stairwell would be empty.

She could hear Sherlock and John shouting before her attacker pulled her into the stair well, she wasn't exactly a burden, the man lifted her easily and she tried to swing her legs, connecting with her attacker's shins, she managed to trip him up. Both tumbled down the stairs, a sharp pain registered in her chest and the wind was knocked from her, her mind was very aware of the parts of her coming into contact with the very hard surface of the stairs, and since when did they become so sharp?

But sounds of gunshots echoed louder snapping her focus from the possible damage in another direction. She found it interesting that the sounds were so much louder, first running feet clapping against the cement stairs. The yelling, oh someone was calling her name and she tried to blink away the fuzzy vision. How funny the pain was gone and the lights were dimming, everything had a liquid softness to it like an unfocused lens of a camera.


	2. Chapter 2 CRIME SCENE PHOTOS

**CRime SCENE PHOTOs  
**

John watched it happen, all in unsettling slow motion, one minute Molly is being pulled into the stairwell by a man in a black ski mask, the next the two were tumbling down the hard cement steps, he heard Molly's sudden cry of surprise and she disappeared under the larger man.

They rolled and slid, coming to a heart stopping halt just at the second level, the bastard in the hoodie jumped up he looked down at the motionless pathologist then back to the two men perusing him, and bolted for the door.

"John! She needs a Doctor! Give me the Browning!" Sherlock caught the Doctor's shoulder, without a second thought the blond handed the gun over, and pulling his mobile, he called emergency services and then Lestrade.

He knew it wouldn't take paramedics much time to arrive seeing as they were after all in the same damn building. He heard the slamming of the heavy door making him jump, the sound like gunshots echoing up the near empty stairwell.

"Molly?" John knew better than to move her, but an alarming amount of blood was pooling under her head. A hand to her pulse told him she was alive, he exhaled.

"Molly?" John pulled his black jacket off, she groaned her eyes blinking unfocused. "Oh, god. Molly, there you are, stay awake now. Help is on the way. No, no lay still." John felt a mixture of relief and concern, when she rolled to her back, her legs were moving, good, no spinal injury, he caught sight of a rather nasty gash just above her forehead at the hairline. Pressing a handkerchief firmly but carefully to halt the bleeding. "Where the hell are those damn medics." He growled to no one but himself.

He tried to keep her from still so as not to aggravate any other unseen injuries. "Molly you'll be fine. It's going to be alright. I need to check for any other injuries. I'm sorry if this hurts. Please remain still, it's important you not move." Eyes still wide and searching, unfocused, he didn't know if she could hear him or understand what was going on, that head injury worried him more, her none response to her name, the dilated pupils, the more he looked the more the bruising starting to dot and line her too pale skin.

Balling up his coat and placing it gently under her head for support, the ex army Doctor started to examine his friend for further injury, his voice bounced off the walls of the stairwell, gently explaining what he was searching for. Reassuring her help was on the way, and always he remained alert and calm.

Sweet relief flooded the ex army Doctor when paramedics arrived, he quickly updated them to her condition.

"What the hell happened?" Lestrade burst through the stairwell doors moving past the crime scene photographer, he had passed the paramedics in the corridor.

"Some man in a ski mask attacked Molly, that's all I know. He was trying to get her into the stairwell, probably had a car waiting in the garage, Sherlock went after him.

"He got away." Sherlock's voice cut them off. He entered panting, his face held a look of sheer irritation. "I lost him in the garage."

"I'll have my men search it."

Sherlock glanced down at the pool of blood, on the last step, John caught how the corner of his friends lip twitched.

"Molly?" John caught the edge in Sherlock's normally composed voice.

"Looks like a sprang in her wrist and a few cracked ribs, a scan will let us know for sure. She'll definitely need stitches."

Sherlock didn't say anything else he pushed past Lestrade and John careful to avoid the blood, nearly knocking over the same crime scene photographer who threw his hands up, standing back shaking his head, completely ignored by the other two men following the dark haired consulting detective.

"They are wasting their time Lestrade he had gloves on, a black hoodie and ski mask, even the jeans he wore were black, I suppose John you didn't notice the blue shoe covers he was wearing? They were disposable. He was here in the lab looking for something. Molly was just a happy surprise for him, he wasn't anticipating anyone being here. And as I said he was careful. He probobly was excited to have his fifth victim, have your men concentrate in a mile radius of the last dump site, it's his pattern to leave them within a mile of each other near in a park frequented by joggers and the like."

"He's mocking us at this point." John growled. "How he manages to dump a body in the park without being noticed."

"People are idiots John, they rarely observe they only see what they want."

"So we are sure she wasn't a target?" The DI was looking around the dark morgue; John flicked the lights on, while Sherlock scanned the area.

"No. It doesn't seem so. Although she does fit conveniently the victim type, same height and weight, even hair color. It was dark so he wouldn't know for sure her eye color. Look around he was searching for something, something on the bodies or collected from them. What?"

John new better than to interrupt, he glance around the room several instruments had been knocked over, but other than that nothing was disturbed. He did notice something small and yellow near the cooler doors, a flower petal; the yellow was so out of place in the sterile surroundings.

Lestrade barked into his phone, directing Sergeant Donovan to have uniformed officers patrol the parks within the selected area, John briefly wondered just where the Sergeant was, and Anderson for that matter, wait scratch that he didnt want to know.

"Sherlock." John called out, "What kind of flower did you say it was-" the dark haired detective moved quickly pulling his magnifying glass out, examining the single wilted petal curled into itself on the freshly mopped tile. John recalled their earlier findings, all victims in this case had traces of pollen, either in their hair or on their clothes.

"Why would this be here?" The consulting detective carefully picked up the velvety clue, it was rare for the sunflower this time of year.

"It's possible he dropped it when he was here." DI Lestrade offered.

"No. He is too careful. He would have been sure not to carry evidence with him. It was already here perhaps." Sherlock needed more data, he started for the lab, glancing up to see the observation blinds were closed.

Once Sherlock pulled the labs heavy door open he halted blocking the doorway, forgetting the Doctor and Inspector were right on his heels, the Doctor nearly ran into him, the Inspector swore under his breath both men peered around the thin consulting detective.

"Jesus!" Lestrade pulled his mobile from his pocket. "I'll get forensics in here, so I'm giving you five minutes."

"ten." Sherlock snapped.

John shook his head, the room was a mess, everything turned over, his friend had been right(no surprise there) someone was looking for something, the garbage bins were pulled out the small file cabinet in the corner and desk had been gone through as well.

Molly's purse remained untouched, so their killer wasn't a thief just a psychopathic murderer, well that's interesting.

Right away John noted the computer sitting on Molly's small work area desk had a cracked monitor.

"He searched the computers and didn't find what he was looking for. Then the file cabinet" Sherlock explained, finding another sunflower petal near the edge of the small desk, Molly's desk.

"Looks like he did track them in." John pointed out, careful not to disturb the mess of paper and empty bins.

"Wait." Sherlock suddenly stood up. "Oh, he's smart, he's a definitely a smart one! Well at least he thinks he's clever." Clapping his hands together, his eyes lit up and John could hear Lestrade curse under his breath. No one was in the mood.

"Sherlock just come out with it." Lestrade growled, John could see the long nights chasing this serial killer was starting to wear on the DI.

"Look around. Molly would have heard this kind of destruction, everything has been flipped over and emptied out."

"So."

"So, there were two of them."

"What how?" Lestrade was frowning hands on his hips. Sherlock pointed at the closed blinds.

"Molly always keeps these open it's for student observations. She only closes them at the end of the night. We know due to the fact that her personal affects are here that she never made it this far. Someone didn't think she would be here. When he noticed the morgue was far from empty, one moved quietly into the morgue below, while the other searched here, and closing the blinds. Obviously the idiots thought Molly wasn't a threat.

He would have heard us and waited, slipping out unnoticed."

Lestrade nodded taking it in, making quick notes his mobile pressed to his ear, rapidly giving orders, "I want everything photographed and cataloged! Nothing is touched, moved or cleaned until the scene is cleared by me."

Sherlock hovered on the toes of his shoes, his eyes wildly taking the room in, something was wrong, all wrong but he didn't know what.

"We are done here John. Lestrade I'll be at the security desk. If you can call it that, for all the use it has been tonight."

"I've already made that call, they'll expect you. Molly is in room 430, I've sent uniforms to stand guard outside." Sherlock gave a short nod of approval, sweeping past the unshaven DI. "Sherlock. John-"

Both men halted hearing the sudden authoritative tone, "Keep me updated. I mean it. No matter how small of a detail. No running off on your own, not on this one. It's going to take all of us." Sherlock's gray eyes held the DI's dark ones. "Inspector say hello to Molly for us. We'll be up shortly."

"Who says I-" The DI shook his head, two officers and a crime scene photographer entered, he needed to focus on them. "Alright boys, take your time, I don't have to remind you to be thorough. I want to know who these bastards are."


	3. Chapter 3 Patient Doctor

**CHAPTER 3. PATIENT DOCTOR**

"Now you see here! I aint done talkin to you!" the bulky hospital security guard caught Sherlock by the arm, the dark haired detective turned slowly, his left eyebrow raised.

_'Oh dear.'_ John rubbed a hand over his face, tilting his head back, as if to ask for help from god or angels, anyone, because this was not going to end well.

"You cant just come into our monitoring room and- and spout off orders, and accusations. I don't know who the hell you think you are?!"

"I suggest you unhand me Mr. Rollings. That is if you wish to keep your hand in tact." Sherlock pulled his arm free turning those cold gray eyes onto the shorter man in a white hospital security uniform.

"They were not accusations, what I said was true. You and the bumbling idiots in your employee are truly not fit to breath! Let alone monitor anyone's safety!"

"Sherlock." John started to step between the two men, but DI Lestrade was already in the corridor.

"What's this about?" he growled, one of the officers shut the door behind the fuming DI, in an attempt to not disturb Miss. Hooper.

"Gentleman lets keep it down this is a hospital." John tried to defuse the situation. Sherlock wasn't going to relent he knew by the stubborn set of the man's jaw.

"Tell me Mr. Rollings I hope that little nip or two was worth your job! Have fun suporting your habit on unemployment." Sherlock pointed a finger into the man's meaty chest.

"You aren't anyone-none of you. I do what I get paid for nothing more and nothing less. So piss off, you and your girlfriend here get the hell out of my face!"

"You fat bastard." John growled, he didn't mean to allow the situation to get to this point. Something in him snapped, maybe the fact this man's mistake insured they were no where nearer to finding the men responsible for the murder of four women and the attempted kidnapping of their friend. Or maybe it was the image of Molly bruised, bloodied and motionless, and this man was giving them crap about how much he was paid, these reasons could be a factor in John's sudden reaction.

The Doctor wasn't known for losing his temper, but the few times he had everyone involved agreed later that A. John Watson could turn a room cold, B. For someone of average build and slightly less than average height he packed a tooth rattling punch, and finally C. everyone wished to never be around for a repeat performance.

This time was no exception, one minute he's trying to calm his flatmate, nobley attempting to keep the Security officer and said friend from trading punches, the next he's slamming the slightly balding obese man, against the wall. John caught the reek of cigarettes and coffee, the coffee was to cover the faint scent of liquor. The Doctor would know after all, how often had Harry tried that trick?

"Doctor Watson!" Sergeant Donovan's surprised voice caused several nurses at the end of the hall to look up, the hospital staff didn't interfere, guessing with the officers and other men in close proximity the situation was being handled.

John didn't hear the Sergeant, he didn't see anything but this despicable unapologetic waste of space.

"Aren't you going to do something?" the head of night security looked pleadingly towards the DI.

"You're right." The DI growled, "Arrest this man for public intoxication."

"You cant-" the soon to be unemployed security officer sputtered.

"Doctor we have this." One of the officers who had been standing quietly taking in the situation moved forward but the dark haired consulting detective stopped his had from touching the ex army doctor's shoulder.

"John. Let him go. It's no use wasting our time. We have other more pressing issues than soiling our hands with such low level intelligence. Let the Yard sort him out."

After what seemed like forever, in reality was only a heartbeats time, the Doctor relented. And just like that everyone watched as the usually unassuming man returned a mask of polite indifference to his face, replacing the cold anger that earlier had twisted and hardened the same face. Even Sally Donovan took a step out of the Doctor's path.

"It seems Lestrade that drunkard was busy finishing the last of his cheap scotch to notice that the camera's weren't recording."

"So we are back to where we started, nowhere." Lestrade swore under his breathe. He shook his head running another hand through his already ruffled hair, "Donovan what is it?" he snapped catching the confused expression of his second in command.

"Sir, the hospital staff is waiting to clean the lab, but they need you to clear the scene. Our guys have photographed and combed over everything. Anderson didn't find anything in the mess. We have I.T. working on the computer to see exactly what files were searched. " Lestrade glanced over at the nervous crime scene photographer who had followed Donovan.

"Bret needs to photograph Miss. Hooper's injuries. Protocol." Donovan and the photographer looked as if they'd give anything to be anywhere else, other than under the cold stare of a very exhausted and short tempered DI.

John cringed, this was the impersonal but necessary part of such investigations. Sally Donovan might be a hardhearted ice queen, but the Doctor knew she was professional, and would of course be as quick and thorough as needed. Looking at her cool expression the doctor sensed the same kind of weariness they all were emitting. After all, Molly, wasn't just a shy girl who worked in the morgue, she was an essential part of the Yard. Her job made theirs easier, she was one of them, not a very visible member but still a vital contributor to many solved cases. How many criminals had her findings put away, how many long hours was she thanklessly putting in just like the rest of them? This was one of theirs and Yard always took care of their own.

"Understood." Lestrade sighed. "She isnt awake yet perhaps that's best. Get it over with."

"Yes sir." Sergeant Donovan nodded but Lestrade caught the younger photographer by the collar. "Where the hell are you going?" Brent motioned to the room. "Donovan take a nurse with you if you need assistance but I trust you can complete this task on your own."

John observed the slight nod, he could see she hadnt even given it consideration, that's how exhausted everyone was.

"I'll be in the morgue, if anyone needs me." The younger man handed off his camera and started to back away unnoticed.

John could see Sherlock wasn't paying attention to any of this, his eyes distant, and hands steepled under his pail chin. A million miles away, sorting information, cataloging feelings and running theories. John knew by now not to bother his friend.

"All done." Sally announced. A nurse shut the heavy door behind her nervously stepping around the officers and an intimidating DI.

"How is she?" Detective Lestrade didnt hid the impatience in his grainy voice.

"I'm sorry, we arent allowed to give-" Lestrade cut her off, flashing his warrant card.

"You were saying." She took a deep breath looking around at all the dark stares, she stammered,

"I'm sorry Detective-I still can't-"

"Holly is it?" the blond nurse gratefully turned to the familiar face, visibly relaxing against the quite intimidating sea of hostility.

Lestrade and the other officers watched in quiet awe, as the man in the blood stained brown jumper, who just a few seconds ago had thrown a man four times his size up against the wall as if he were nothing but a bit of plywood, that same man stood there with a look of polite warmth.

"Yes, Doctor Watson I almost didn't recognize you."

"Well it's been a bit of a day, you know." She nodded seeing the blood staining his jumper.

"You do understand I was the first one on the scene."

"Yes, sir."

"So you wont mind me looking over Doctor-"

"Howards."

"Really, Doctor Howards?" John cringed, he and the pompous ass had a butting of heads a few days ago, and it wasn't the first time or the last time since he started working a few nights a week at the hospital.

"Yes. Doctor."

"Well, as I was saying, you wont mind me double checking Doctor Howards' chart notes-" She nervously looked around.

"No, of course not." She gave a weak smile. "Here you go, you know where to put it when you're through."

"Thanks Holly." She hurried off wanting to put as much distance between them and herself. Of course she wouldn't mention it to Doctor Howards, the retired navy surgeon, apparently the army Doctor and navy Doctor weren't exactly on friendly terms.

Both men were the same age, and retired for nearly the same reasons, but for some odd unshakable reason neither man could be within two feet of each other without arguing over a diagnosis or treatment plan.

"Just as I said, bruises, stitches, simple rib fracture, the Doctor will have another x-ray run in about 12-24 hours to check for a Pulmonary contusion." John went into doctor mode, scanning the abominable handwriting. Navy doctors hmph.

"Why so long?"

"It usually takes that long for them to show up, if any. Then it could be as simple as, giving her supplemental oxygen by way of nasal cannula. Seeing how her chest x-rays look good and there was no crackle to be heard, she's going to walk away with a few severe bruises, and a sprain in her wrist. She is actually quite lucky nothing else is broken. Maybe the bastard broke her fall a little with his own body." John thought he heard a collective exhale.

"Lestrade it looks like it's going to be a long night, you may want to get coffee for Doctor Watson and yourself, I'll have the nurse bring in some extra chairs."

**_~0~_**

When Lestrade returned with coffee the two men were standing near the door in quiet discussion.

"Coffee." Greg held out the steaming black water the hospital considered coffee.

Greg looked around Molly's room, noting it was furnished differently than any of the others on this floor. Before he could ask the Doctor about it, the heavy door was pulled open forcefully.

"Oh Captain Watson-should have guessed you would be part of this commotion." Greg, moved out of the way of a dark haired doctor in a white lab coat, it was either that or be trampled.

"Lt. Howards didn't know you had it in you to work the night shift, how's the shoulder? I see it's no help with your penmanship, or was it always that bad even before the shrapnel?" Greg noted how low both men kept their voice so as not to disturb Molly, who was under heavy painkillers as it was. Still he found it amazing that these two men of similar height and stature squared up sounding absolutely deadly while maintaining quiet tones.

"It's better than that chicken scratch you call handwriting, I think all that time in the desert may have left you confused, I'm not even sure it's the Queen's English-"

If the situation wasn't so serious Detective Inspector Lestrade would have laughed. Better head this off.

"Please, Doctor Howards is it? We are all just concerned about Miss. Hooper you understand." The dark haired man gave the DI a stern look that made Greg want to jump to attention as if he were up for inspection. "Yes. Of course. And I don't know how you've pulled it off but the hospital administrator has granted your requests, so you are allowed to stay. But if anyone is out of line or causes the patient distress, I don't give a good goddamn if the Queen herself, god bless her, comes down, I'll boot you out on your arse so quick it'll make your heads spin. Understood." Sherlock and Lestrade didn't reply, "And you Watson-just remember whose care this patient is under."

Before Doctor Watson could reply DI Lestrade responded evenly "Thank you Doctor Howards. We will keep it in mind." The three exhausted men went to take their seats near the small figure in the hospital bed. The only sounds were of her even breathing and the steady beep of the monitors.


	4. Chapter 4 SIMILARITIES

**CHAPTER 4. SIMILARITIES**

Molly could hear her alarm going off, actually no, maybe it was more like her phone. The beeping was so steady. Oh dear could it be her smoke detector? Sometimes the batteries get low and it beeps steadily until she changes the dying batteries out. Well better get up. She sighed opening her eyes, expecting to be greeted by her very impatient cats, Skitters and Mr. Huggins.

No, instead, once she managed to open her very heavy eyelids after three or four tries ok one good try the others were somewhat half tries, but once she did get them opened, although one didn't seem like it was going to open all the way, interesting, she was greeted by a kind looking brunette woman in green scrubs. Oh no, did she fall asleep at her desk in the lab again?

"Good morning Doctor Hooper." Molly flinched hearing her title, usually people who knew her called her Molly, just Molly. "How are you feeling?" Molly grimaced picking a heavy hand up to touch her aching head, she blinked again but her left eye wasn't opening any wider.

"Molly?" someone offered her a straw, oh how nice her mouth did feel dry. Trying to focus was a lot harder than it should be. Some one gently took her wrist, pulling her hand from her throbbing face.

What a gentle hand, a warm one, fairly larger than her own, she thought it felt nice, a little work worn, but her dad had always worked hard and his hands told the same story.

Someone else was talking, the voices were somewhat familiar, if she could just push through the haze, the last time she felt like this was at her cousin Emry's 21st, and she learned that Long Island ice tea wasn't really ice tea. In fact there was no iota of ice tea in that drink.

Was that John talking to another Doctor? The two didn't seem very happy to be speaking to one another. And anyway, what was John doing in her office? He looked worried, what did Sherlock do now?

"More water?" the grainy voice offered she accepted the straw gratefully.

"Thanks." She managed sounding a little more like herself.

"Doctor Hooper." A deep voice addressed her from her left, she turned to meet an unfamiliar face, he had to be a doctor he was dressed like one. "Do you know where you are?" She didnt flinch when he started to shine a penlight into her eyes, she thought his hands smelt of lemon and sanitizer.

It came back to her now, hands over her mouth the corridor, and yelling.

"Was anyone hurt?" her voice came out a little unsteady, she hated that, hated sounding so weak and timid. She wasnt going to be weak, she could take care of herself thank you very much, after all hadnt she almost got away? She tried to pick her left arm up but winced, noticing now the cast over it. This was going to be a problem. How could she work with a cast? Typing one handed would be an new interesting skill to learn from all this, her mother always did say look on the bright side of things and you can never have a bad day. Molly didnt think mum would be to upset if she didnt find one in this situation, being nearly kidnapped by some criminal who most likely had intentions to kill her. Yes, well, the bright side could be he didnt. Everyone was looking at her now, she hated being the center of attention, better say something the dark haired doctor was answering her question so she could go from there.

"Just you." this doctor reminded her of John, his hair cut and stature even the way he offered a reassuring smile.

"I'm in the hospital arent I? Oh, how-how long have I been here?"

"Just ten hours Molly." She turned her aching head, it was the silver haired DI, and he was the one with the straw and the cup, she turn away shyly, the motion made her head ache even more.

"Oh, my cats, they'll be starved." Again her voice cracked.

"I'm sure we can have someone go and feed them." The DI offered kindly.

"The DI here insists on asking you a few questions, but if you aren't ready I'll tell him and his companion, where they can go." Doctor not John, was saying this gently, glancing down at a chart making a few notes. She could see Doctor Watson rolling his eyes, and she had to hold back a small giggle, he usually reserved that expression for Sherlock. Clearly these two Doctor's werent exactly best of friends.

"I'm aright. Just a bit nauseous. I don't think I'll be much help. One moment I was in the lab getting ready to close up the next there was a hand clamped over my mouth and I hit him with my elbow and ran for the doors but he was a little quicker I thought if I could pull the fire alarm someone might come help. But I guess I didn't make it that far. Is everyone alright? I thought I heard gunshots."

"Nothing to worry about, no one was hurt. Sherlock chased the guy into the garage and he disappeared. Molly, did you see anyone unusual coming or going? Anything or anyone that stuck out?" The DI's voice was soft and she blushed a little hearing him call her by her first name, had he ever done that before?

"No-no" Molly tried to even out her shaky voice, her throbbing head was getting worse, " just the usual work day, the janitors cleaned up the upstairs office, the forensics guys picking up hard copies, and of course the photographer who needed to photograph the newest body. Nobody else." Lestrade made quick notes on his small notepad.

"Did he say anything to you Molly?" Lestrade pressed. She shook her head, wincing once more. She really should remember that any head movements hurt and caused her stomach to turn.

"Nothing. Just no ones gonna hurt you love. Something like that. I'm sorry I cant be more help."

"No, that's fine, right Greg." Now Doctor Watson was talking, offering his kind eyes full of warmth and promising _it's all going to be fine. _She couldnt help but return his smile and nod. Darn it, that hurt, she really needed to just lay back and close her eyes.

"If you'll excuse me. Dr. Hooper glad you're awake." Detective Lestrade sounded so formal, John gave him an odd look, "Rest assured, we'll catch him. Sherlock's down at the lab looking over more samples."

John followed Lestrade out saying his goodbyes, he knew Sherlock would be around soon to visit, he'd shot out of the room sometime in the morning stating personal business, he reassured both men it had nothing to do with the case and they should stay behind until Molly wakes up. John hadnt seen him since.

"Sunflowers!" Sherlock nearly crashed into them, as he stepped off the elevator and them in.

"Where the hell have you been?" Greg growled. "You better have not gone off on your own. Or so help me-"

"I told you detective I had an errand to run." He sniffed.

"What errand?" John narrowed his eyes looking the detective up and down suspiciously.

"It doesn't matter! Sunflowers. The pollen and the petal is from a sunflower. Only a few places in London grow them this time of year. I've narrowed them down to two possible places." He pressed the lobby button; John captured his friends wrist, examining the deep but thin scratches on the back of Sherlock's hand.

"What's that?"

"Nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing. Actually looks like a cat got you more than once, but we don't own any cats, and you absolutely loath cats."

"And for good reason John! For good reason." Sherlock pulled his hand away, " Filthy vile hateful little balls of fur, cats are so pretentious, and hold themselves in high esteem really it's a surprise anyone can keep one let alone two as pets!"

"Wait. So a cat did scratch you?" Lestrade looked skeptical.

"Yes. Detective Inspector do keep up. I was trying to feed the vile things and they rushed me like two starved lions! I could have lost a finger or two."

"Ok, so whose cats were you feeding?" John was holding back a grin, unsuccessfully.

"John, really? Obviously Molly has cats. I remember that she likes to feed them regularly at the same time every morning. I went to put the combination of soft food mixed with dry into their individual bowls, when I believe it was Mr. Huggins that caught me on my hand."

"Why would Molly's cat attack you. Especially if you're just trying to feed them? What were you really doing?" John folded his arms over his chest.

"John. I assure you my intentions were completely pure. It's the cats! You do know, cats can hold such unreasonable grudges. Awful pets, I don't care what anyone says." Sherlock thrust his fists into his coat pockets.

"Why would Molly's cats have a grudge against you?" Greg asked. "And how did you get into her apartment?" his eyes narrowing on the dark haired man. "You didn't pick the lock did you?"

"I was given an extra key when-well she helped me out of a situation involving a roof. And during the time I hid out, it seems I was sleeping in Mr. Huggins favorite spot on the couch, and I refused the LiLo. Obviously, he still has yet to forgive me."

"Sounds like you and Mr. Huggins, have a lot in common." John started to giggle and Sherlock gave him a very dark look. The DI was coughing attempting unsuccessfully to hide his own laughter.

"If you two are through we do have a serial killer to catch."


	5. Chapter 5 FLOWERS

**CHAPTER 5. FLOWERS**

"Well Doctor Hooper seems that we'll be releasing you tomorrow, after running one more scan, cant be too careful when head injuries are involved." Doctor Howards reported in a voice that made Molly feel as if she were in the military receiving a quick debriefing.

"Thank you Doctor I am feeling much better." She forced a tired smile, the pain medicine was making her feel a little loopy but she would much rather be loopy at home on her own couch with her cats and old black and white movies to distract her from these nagging aches and pains.

Doctor Howards checked the young woman's vitals. Doctor Hooper reminded him so much of his dear Lucy, his daughter had the same shy disposition. Lucy was away at medical school and he wondered where this young ladies family was. As far as he could tell only that gray haired DI, the fellow in the long coat who needed a hair cut, and of course Watson had visited with the young coroner.

"Sunflowers, not an easy flower to find this time of year." He remarked pointing at a bouquet of the yellow flowers someone had set in a mason jar near the window.

"Is there a card?" The woman frowned seeing them.

"I'll check. No not one I can see." Molly felt sick hadn't she thrown the same flowers out yesterday afternoon.

"Doctor Hooper are you alright?" Doctor Howards was at her side, the young woman had gone pale and he could hear the steady beeping of her heart monitor start to accelerate.

"Uh, yes. I'm just tired." She lied, maybe she should mention it to Sherlock, it could just all be so silly. They were only flowers, she was never overly fond of Sunflowers, it was just the fact that someone kept sending them to her, along with those odd phone calls and after that man had tried to pull her down the stairs.

"Would you like some more morphine for the pain?" Doctor Howards could see something was wrong, he needed to pin point what, if it was pain then he could easily remedy this, but if those flowers were from an unwanted suitor then he could fix that as well. Young men were entirely too forward these days, if someone needed to be set straight, he'd be the one to do it.

"No. I'm alright." Her eyes shot to the flowers wearily.

"You don't know who sent these?" Molly wondered if this was supposed to be a question because it came across as a statement, she could only nod in reply. "That bothers you?" Another statement slash question.

"Yes, it's not just-" Molly's good hand lightly held the wrist with cast.

"Just?" The Doctor gently pressed.

"Well I've been receiving these gifts."

"Gifts?"

"Well, flowers like those. In my locker. My_ locked,_ locker, and in my office. There has been these phone calls-"

"Phone calls? Doctor Hooper, are you being threatened?"

"Oh-no. no. It's just-uh."

"When you receive these phone calls what does the caller say?"

"That's just it. Nothing. The caller never says anything and I always hang up first. So I've changed my number. And the flowers and candy stopped showing up unexpectedly. I had thought it was from someone I might know but-"

"You're not so sure now." She grimaced nodding slowly. "Have you told anyone?"

"I don't know if it's anything. I mean it's only a few phone calls a day and flowers. Maybe someone has the wrong idea."

"A few phone calls? How many?"

" At least five or six times. Even on my work phone. I've just started letting it go to voice mail but it stopped after I changed my mobile number. And it's been a week since I've received anything well other then yesterday-"

"Doctor Hooper-Molly, this could be serious. What if it's a stalker? These things tend to escalate. You should know that. You must know how these kinds of things can be dangerous."

"Well yes but-"

"No, no buts, I'm going to call that DI friend of yours back here, and you'll tell him everything you just said to me. As for these flowers would you like me to dispose of them?"

"Please. But, I'm sure the DI is very busy. I'll just tell Sherlock or John next time they pop by." The Doctor ignored her as he slipped his gloves on in case the police would want to fingerprint the jar or however those types collected evidence.

"Well, the officers are gone thinking you will be fine, and I'm sure you will be. But my shift ends here in a bit, I think I'll stop in before I leave to check on you if it's alright." Molly tried to argue knowing from the man's upfront no nonsense demeanor that it was futile.

"That is very kind of you Doctor but I'm fine. Don't fuss-"

"Good, it's agreed. I'll see you in a bit. Maybe I'll bring you some coffee none of this horrible cafeteria water they colored brown and claim is coffee."

Doctor Howards disregarded her soft protests, carrying the flowers out of the room, with the intention of placing them behind the nurses desk. He would keep an eye out for the young girl, it could be nothing but what if it wasn't a coincidence after all. Maybe that Doctor Watson's friend could look into it. He could give Watson a call, it wouldn't hurt, besides his number had to be somewhere on hand after all he was a hospital doctor was he not? Lucky bastard also got to go around solving crimes chasing criminals if that blog was to be believed, and Howards hated to admit to the pang of jealousy he felt over that.

"Woah!Excuse me Doc!" Howards nearly collided with a young dark haired man. the water from the flowers sloshed over onto his white lab coat, the ex navy surgeon shot the cause of his now soaked white lab coat a dark look. Just a kid in a pair of black slacks and blue polo his id tag hanging from a black lanyard read Samuel Hicks forensics.

"You with the Yard?" it had been meant as a question but came out as a stern demand.

"Yes." The younger man frowned. "Why?"

"Do you happen to have DI Lestrade's contact number?"

"Sure. But why would you need it?" the Doctor straightened placing the mason jar and flowers down onto the empty nurses station desk. His dark eyes fiercely staring down the younger man.

"That's my business son, now give me the damn number."

**~0~**

"Detective Inspector Lestrade speaking."

The first green house had been completely empty no signs of use in months, so the three planned on moving onto the next one when the DI received a call.

Sherlock held his touch screen mobile searching for the second address, John scanned the locked glass building's surrounding area, no one in the small parking lot and nothing was growing in the smaller green house, not so much as a weed. Just another frustrating dead end, he hoped the next location would prove more helpful.

"Hey, you two go on to the next site. I doubt you'll find anything of interest. I'm going to head back to the hospital." John's heads snapped up, Sherlock remained glued to his phone.

"Everything alright?" John read Lestrade's pinched expression.

"It might be nothing, but that Doctor Howards just called."

"Yeah?" John held his breath, had something happened was Molly ill, did the scan come back as a serious brain injury?

"No, nothing to do with her health. It seems he wishes to speak to me about security protocols or whatever that means."

Sherlock gave a tight smile "No worries Lestrade I've called a cab, have fun with the navy surgeon the Doctor and I will call if we find anything of use."

"Right, right. Remember what I said. No going off on your own, I'll have officer Clark and Daniels meet you there, just text me the address."

A cab started to pull in, John turned to his flatmate a question starting to form on his lips but Sherlock grinned, "I deduced from the inspectors tone of voice he wouldn't be following us to the next location. It's alright he only slows us down with excessive questions and he thinks uncomfortably too loud. It's only distracting come along John."


	6. Chapter 6 EXIT

**CHAPTER 6. EXIT**

The second location was a flower shop that had it's own greenhouse located at the back of the building. It also was closed for the month, a note on the door said the owners had to go away on personal business.

"Well, lets look around. I'll go through the side see if there is a door open, You check to see if the green house is open. Call me if you see anything."

"Likewise Sherlock."

"Agreed Doctor, although from the looks of this place we may just come up with the same results. I have another theory but this one seemed to be the most likely."

"Do you think maybe he ordered the flowers through a catalogue or online. Maybe he's growing them himself?"

"That wouldn't explain why just the pollen could be found on the victims, it means they victims were brought to a location that would have had the plants growing, and the petals were only an accidental transfer, obviously one of the two were careless." Sherlock scanned the front of the building. "John you head towards the large domed greenhouse across the back lot. Clarke and officer Daniels will be here soon anyway. Might as well start searching before they get here to stop us. You know legal entry and all that."

"Right. Right. God forbid we ever go by the book." John shook his head. "Here you take the gun." Sherlock hesitated. "Just take it, I'll be fine, I'm only going to take a peek over there, cant get into much trouble, it's not like it's a whole building. If you find a way in text me, I'll meet you there. We'll go in together."

"As always Doctor your sense of concern is unwarranted and ill placed. " John held back the urge to smack the back of his flatmates head.

"Oh, shut up. Go! And don't you dare use that to blow off any locks! At least make it look like you found the door or window open, bullet holes are hard to explain away."

"I've got my lock pick. Doctor, really like I would waste bullets on something so trivial as a door lock."

"Or a defenseless wall?" Sherlock sniffed straightening his shoulders he turned away with the swish of his long coat John watched him stalk around to the side of the closed flower shop.

_**~0~**_

"Hey! What the hell are you doin?" Sherlock froze standing up from his crouched position, he'd been so intent on picking the doors lock he hadn't heard the thin man's approach. Placing a very practiced friendly smile firmly on his face he stood and offered his hand to a thin man wearing a pair of very dirty coveralls.

"Yes, actually you might be able to." Sherlock flashed a stolen warrant card, one he'd acquired a while back from Lestrade while the DI was being boring, this thin dark haired man eye the card skeptically. "Do you work here?" Sherlock kept his voice tight and authoritative.

"Yeah, for a few months now. Why?" Sherlock scrutinized the thin groundskeeper. Divorced, irritated that his work was interrupted, skeptical and untrusting of police officers.

"Mind if I take a look around inside?" Sherlock pressed.

"Yeah, just you then? Come on." The thin man with a chipped tooth pulled his keys out and opened a door, he took out his own mobile. "Should I call the owners, let em know somethins wrong?"

"No, not just yet. Like I said I just want a look around. Do you sell sunflowers." The man nodded suspiciously.

"Are you here for flowers? The shops closed till the boss gets back." Sherlock kept the thin man within sight not exactly feeling comfortable he thought about calling for John to join him but soon decided against it, the man wasn't armed and John still hadn't texted him yet.

"Where did the owners go?" Sherlock queried, he deduced the shop had been used despite the closed sign on the door. Someone had swept the shop but the counters remained dusty.

"One of their kids got sick, they had to help with the grand children. Somethin like that. I just keep the grounds."

"Are you the only one working here?"

"Yeah, don't need anyone else today, and I'm off as of five minutes ago. There is another bloke, Charles, he works only weekends though, only does the watering."

"Where is he now?"

"I'm not his mum I don't know. He dont work again till Saturday. Like I said he only does the weekend watering. And I'm off. So if you'll just lock up when you're through Detective Inspector."

"Sure, alright." Sherlock watched the man leave he wasn't the man he was looking for, nothing but contempt for authority there. Obviously an ex con, but for petty offenses like check fraud nothing else. And there didn't seem to be anything out of place here in the shop. He moved into the back room, getting ready to shoot a text to John when he heard the creak of the floorboards behind him.

_**~0~**_

John took out his mobile, examining the bright yellow flowers the heads bowed, the sunlight not exactly too bright in this corner of the dome shaped building. Oddly the warm glass structure started to feel a little more stuffy, while fighting the urge to pull his black jacket off John continued towards the back of the green house, a distinctive hissing sound drawing his attention further down the rows of orchids. "What the hell-" his words trailed, several pipes connecting and intertwining over the flower beds were now releasing a steam, causing the room to cloud and windows to fog. The good doctor started to cough now, the air tasted sour, burning his nostrils and even his skin felt tight in reaction to this odd vapor. Insecticide his mind offered up a quick explanation, insecticides weren't exactly people friendly.

And that's my cue to get the hell out of here. He thought to himself, deciding it best seeing how he found what they might be looking for.

John's hand clumsily reached into his jacket pocket in search of his handkerchief, once he located it he held it over his nose and mouth retracing his steps back the way he'd come. More pipes above his head were now emitting the thick smelling fog.

Things started to blur and John had a hard time moving faster than a clumsy shuffle, by the time he reached the glass door he nearly collapsed. He pushed against the heavy glass, the door didnt move, he tried to pull at the handle still nothing, to his horror the door was locked. His lungs screaming for air, eyes burning John tried running at the only exit. This only caused him to bruise his good shoulder, and take in a mouthful of the foul air, the coughing fit seizing his chest and lungs nearly brought him to his knees. Clumsy numb fingers attempted to hold his mobile phone and dial a number, but not too soon after managing to hit send, he found the soft soil under his feet rushing up to meet his face.


	7. Chapter 7 BREAKING NOISES

**CHAPTER 7. BREAKING NOISES**

Sherlock had a hand on the Browning in his coat pocket as he turned towards the sound of squeaky floor boards.

"Sir, there ya are. DI Lestrade sent us down to accompany you with your investigation." Sherlock released the hold on the Browning's hilt, offering a tight smile for the uniformed officer Clarke.

"Of course he did, I was just looking around, the maintenance man graciously let me in."

"Yeah I passed Mr. Charming on my way in." Clarke replied his heavy boots causing the floor boards to creak again.

"There might be a basement to this place. Except I don't see a door." The consulting detective narrowing his gray eyes to the floor under the officers black boots, Kneeling down knocking on the wood floor.

Daniels shot Clarke a questioning look from the doorway, officer Clarke only signaled him to be still, knowing from experience it was best to not question, make noise, or breath loudly when the dark haired detective was concentrating.

And no matter what, under no circumstances was it ever a good idea to answer Sherlock Holmes, even if it seemed that he was asking you a question. Clarke knew that if there was no eye contact, then it was best to just ignore it, the man often thought out loud, and 99 percent of the time it was to himself and no one else.

Clarke winced as the consulting detectives phone started to buzz loudly, resulting in an angry hiss "Oh, what now?"

The officer could see from where he stood that the caller ID was flashing the name, John Watson across the screen, this caused the mood of the now standing genius detective to change drastically from irritable to excited."Ah, Doctor Watson right on cue. John, I take it you found the sunflowers?"

Clarke and Daniels waited as Sherlock switched the phone to speaker, shuffling across the floor stomping around still testing the floor boards, all three men tensed listing for a reply, hearing nothing but static. "John?"

Clarke stepped forward radio in hand immediately on alert.

"John! Where are you?" Sherlock was dashing now through the shop's door nearly running Clarke and Daniels down.

"What is it sir?" Daniels called as the two officers followed at the detectives heals. The dark haired detective in the Bellstaff coat sprinted towards the green house across the back lot. All three men arrived at the glass domed structure within seconds, immediately aware of the hissing noise from within the building.

"Is the Doctor in there?" Clarke frowned trying to look through the windows, "I cant see a thing. What the hell is that fog?"

"John!" Sherlock ignored the officers questions pulling on the door, it wouldn't budge. "John!" he pounded on the thick glass, it wasn't any use the fog was too thick for a visiual. "The door! It's locked." Sherlock tried again, no luck, he moved to shoot at the lock, not caring if the officers arrested him for possession of an illegal fire arm, John might be in danger. That could well be toxic insecticide, he needed to get in and now.

"Step aside sir." Clarke halted the detectives actions as if reading his mind, another firm hand pulled him aside causing the usually stoic detective to swear irritably.

Sherlock tried to pull free of officer Daniels, his gray eyes cold and mouth ready to shout abuse, when officer Clarke surprised him by acting quickly in one fluid motion he drew his truncheon from it's holster the long metal stick flipped out extending to arms length and clicking loudly and firmly into place.

The trained officer then moved it purposefully, aiming a heavy strike at the glass door, the first strike caused the layered glass to crack and spider webb, a second thud shattered the top pane. Allowing the suffocating fog to rush out, this did not affect the determined Clarke who now kicked out the rest of the thick jagged edges of glass protruding from the bottom of the frame.

Sherlock didn't hesitate to dart in, coughing he held his coat to his face nearly falling over the unconscious John Watson sprawled out near the door.

"Call an ambulance!" Clarke shouted to Daniels, kneeling down to aid the consulting detective with moving the unconscious Doctor.

"John!" Sherlock coughed laying his friend out in the grass a few feet away from the sickly sweet miasma that now bellowed out through the forced entryway.

"The Ambulance is on the way. Is he breathing?" Daniels scanned the area for any movement keeping alert in case someone was stupid enough to attack the small group.

"Water! Do you have any water?" Sherlock demanded pulling the Doctor's coat from the unresponsive blond man.

"In the car we have a few bottles." Clarke offered.

"Bring me as many as you have! Now!" Sherlock commanded, loosing the doctor's buttoned up shirt.

"Yes sir! We'll be right back." Clarke and Daniels dashed over to the patrol car returning with a few water bottles.

"We keep them in the trunk in case of emergencies." Daniels explained dropping an arm full next to the consulting detective, curious as to what the detective was going to use them for.

"-it's a common chemical in pesticide easily broken down by h2o-" Clarke only caught the end of the conversation he was concentrating on the unresponsive doctor who with every breath made a terrible wheezing noise.

Clarke noted how the detectives hands tremble slightly as he opened the first bottle of water dumping it frantically over the doctor's flushed face, the Doctor soon started to sputter and cough his red rimmed eyes opening wide, wildly trying to focus.

"What the bloody hell!" he growled as another bottle of water was unceremoniously emptied out on over his eyes.

"Hold still Doctor it's for your own good." Sherlock replied shaking another bottle until the contents were completely drained.

"Are you trying to drown me?" John's voice sounded raw, his hand came up to block another onslaught of water, sitting up he tried to scoot back.

"Quite the opposite John. Just trying to help with the allergic reaction to the pesticide, now hold still and let me pour water into your eyes."

"What? Ugh-" Sherlock didn't wait for the Doctor to comply before he started to pour more water(two handed) into the already squinting doctor's eyes. Clarke tried not to laugh and Daniels only watched captivated by the suddenly humorous exchange between the two men.

"Dammit Sherlock I said stop!"

"And I said hold still Doctor!"

"If you dump one more damn bottle of water on me I swear I'll make you eat it!"

"And if you don't let me dump at least three more bottles of water on you I'll have Daniels hold you down."

"Sherlock! I'm serious!"

"And I assure you that was not an empty threat!"

_**~0~**_

Molly nervously tried to concentrate on the small telly just to the right of her bed, she fiddled with the television remote finding nothing on to keep her mind off of the hectic 24 hours. Her life was usually so uneventful, she sometimes wished for excitement but after this week she was looking forward to business as usual.

A firm knock on the door caused her to fumble and nearly drop the small remote, she quickly switched the telly to off. "Come in."

"Doctor Hooper."

"Oh, Detective Inspector." Molly greeted thankful that she managed to keep her voice from shaking.

"Doctor Howards was very adamant that I speak with you. Is this a bad time?"

she smiled sadly, "No. It's fine."

"Right." The DI shuffled into the room uncomfortably, deciding after hesitating between standing or sitting, to pull up a chair nearest the injured pathologists bed.

"I know you are really busy." She started "I don't know if it's worth mentioning but-"

"But?" Lestrade tried to appear patient, he would rather be out keeping an eye on Sherlock, he trusted John to keep the two out of trouble but sometimes trouble just followed the consulting detective wherever the man went. And Howards wouldn't say much over the phone, but the was relentless and refused to take no for answer. After speaking with the man just outside Molly's room briefly, the Detective Inspector felt as if he were being dismissed and he almost felt obligated to salute.

"Well for the past month or so I've been receiving these phone calls from a blocked number." This caught the DI's attention,

"Phone calls?"

"Nnnothing threatening at least just odd. Whoever called never said anything and I usually hung up first but then I started getting gifts."

"What kind of gifts?" Lestrade didn't like where this was going, he had a serial killer who had an odd fascination with women of similar build, height, eye and hair color of the younger woman, this couldn't be a coincidence.

Doctor Howards waited at the nurse's station for the gray haired DI, after just a few minutes the man was leaving Molly Hoopers room.

"DI I take it she told you about the flowers."

"Yes, these them?" Greg motioned towards the sunflowers sitting behind the desk.

"Yes, sir. Made sure to handle them with gloves. No one else has touched them since."

"Good man. Good man. I'm having forensics come up."

"And I take it you'll be putting more officers outside her room as well?" Greg couldn't help but smile.

"Yes, Doctor Howards that's exactly what I'll have done."

"Good. That young woman has been through enough. I hope you didn't upset her more by berating her or-"

"Now-"

"No you see here. You lot should be aware of these things. I'm surprised she isnt comfortable enough disclosing this. You're her friends aren't you? Not much of a genius detective that Sherlock Holmes if one of his close friends is being threatened right under his nose."

"Sir. Anderson sent me up to pick up flowers?" Forensics officer Hicks interrupted the two men.

"Yeah, take those down to the lab. I want the jar fingerprinted."

"Right away sir." Hicks nervously stepped between the two men, both men immediately dismissed his presence and continued with whatever conversation he'd interrupted.

"Doctor-" Lestrade was about to ask the man if he'd seen anyone suspicious hanging about when the sound of shattering glass caused both the DI and Doctor to turn their attention towards the end of the hospital corridor.

"Sssorry sir-must of slipped." Hicks wearing his Nitrile gloves started to pick up the shattered pieces of broken mason jar.

Howards only shook his head irritably and Lestrade swore under his breath, there goes that piece of evidence.

"With such competent people I can see why Miss. Hooper should have so much faith in you lot."


	8. Chapter 8 CONVERASATIONS

**CHAPTER 8. CONVERSATIONS**

"I'm fine. I don't need the ambulance." John coughed his head aching, every cough burned but as a Doctor, John knew it was helping to expel all that he had inhaled.

"John-"  
"Sherlock, I'm not getting into that thing."

"**_Doctor_ **you of all people should know it's best to have a trained medical professional examine you before you-" Sherlock was sure to put emphasis on the word Doctor.  
"I am a trained medical professional Sherlock and I say I'll be fine." John wished he hadn't raised his voice another fit of coughs nearly knocked him to his knees. The smug look of doubt cast in his direction from his condescending flatmate was dripping with a self-satisfied air almost causing John's temper to snap, except even if he wanted to smack his flatmate his vision was still a bit blurry, knowing his luck he'd miss the dumb bastard.

"John if you wont get into the ambulance then Clarke and Daniels will have to drive us."

"What about the building don't you have to search it more?"

"It can wait, you however can not."

"Fine, I'll go but not in the ambulance." She glared at the weary paramedics.

"Have it your way **_Doctor_**." Sherlock called to officer Clarke "Clarke! We'll be needing that ride now."

John thought he caught a look of disappointment cross officer Daniels face before the younger officer pulled several banknotes from his back pocket handing them to his partner shaking his head. Confused John realized what had happened when Sherlock accepted his half of the money.

"Never bet against the house." Clarke slapped Daniels on the back roughly.

"What just happened? Sherlock, did you just make a bet?" When his flatmate didnt answer or even acknowledge the question John turned to the younger officer " Daniels?" John dabbed at his face gently with a clean handkerchief Sherlock had forced into his hand earlier, the water still dripping from his hair into his eyes, only making his teeth chatter and add to his irritation.

"I bet Clarke you would go in the ambulance to the hospital or not at all, Clarke said you would take a ride but not to the hospital, Sherlock wagered you would end up going with us in the car to the hospital. I lost, and Clarke only partially lost."

"You're still young Daniels, you'll learn soon enough that Sherlock cheats." John sighed heavily shooting a dark glare at his dark haired friend now holding the door of the patrol car open.

The ride to the hospital was spent with John trying not to be sick, his skin feeling itchy and head pounding, Sherlock however concentrated on his touch screen, googling god knows what or texting the Inspector, John didnt care his eyes were burning and the cool fall air kept reminding him that his clothes were still wet. Once at the Hospital Sherlock exploded from the back seat of the patrol car, never being one to care to sit in the back anyway, but his body bounced with excitement and energy, or maybe just relief.

"John I must find Lestrade. I'll catch up with you after."

"Wait what about the green house. Did you figure out who locked me in?"

"I have a two theories."

"Just two." John eyed his flatmate.

"Yes, while you were arguing with the paramedics officers Clarke and Daniels searched the property for the maintenance man. They found nothing he was obviously long gone. Somehow I don't believe it was that man that locked you in. Too much distance to walk from the shop to the green house in such a short time, besides Clarke and Daniels passed the man as he headed for the bus stop. Someone else was out there, the question was who."

"Right. So that was the kill spot?"

"Perhaps, I cant say for sure I need more data."

"John! Sherlock." DI Lestrade started towards the two men, he started to say something but once his eyes fell on Doctor Watson he faltered.

"Greg, anything new?" John ignored the Detective Inspectors startled expression. Well he must look pretty bad if Greg was openly gawking.

"What the hell happened to you? You look like you went for a swim in the Thames."

"No, just the usual kind of day, got locked in a greenhouse nearly suffocated from poisonous insecticide, only to have a very concerned flatmate slash friend nearly drown me with 12 bottles of water."

"What? Never mind I'm sure you'll fill me in on that later. I do have-"

"It'll have to wait Lestrade, John needs to be seen first."

"Dammit Sherlock I'm not a child, at least let the man finish."

"Alright boys not now. I'll debrief you while we wait for John to be seen. We still have time Sherlock we'll take a few men and go back to flower shop. I'll make some phone calls to see if we can have a chat with the owners."

"Fair enough" John coughed shaking his head, his skin felt raw and he knew he must look sunburned because he felt it.

**~0~**

"Oh, sorry didn't mean to wake you. I was looking for Detective Inspector Lestrade."

Molly had jerked awake sensing someone was watching her, the young forensics officer nervously moved to stand at the foot of her bed "I'm really sorry Mol-ugh Doctor Hooper." He bit his lip.

"Oh, no you didn't wake me. I was just-I'm jumpy is all. It's alright Sam."

"You know you don't look so bad even all purple and-" Sam started to stutter. "Well I better get going, Anderson is on the warpath. You know how he can be."

"Oh I can imagine."

"It's been worse without you. Who ever that substitute they have is no where near as proficient as you."

"Doctor Davison is perfectly well trained for the Job. He came out of retirement to take over." Molly defended softly.

"Yeah, I figured looks like he might have been around during Jack the ripper." Molly had to laugh now as Sam started do his best impression of the elderly Coroner, squinting his eyes and pretending to adjust his imaginary glasses.

"Uh, in my day the medical examiner was expected to show up on the crime scene and legally declare the victim dead. We then did our autopsies then and there. If it looked like he fell down the stairs then the boys at the yard would take that as gospel. None of this DNA, pictures, and reenacting the scene bull. It's a waste of the countries money and man power to autopsy every junkie and prostitute that over dosed in our city."

"Oh, he isnt quite so bad. Give him a chance Sam." Molly giggled.

"SO when they letting you out? "

"Tomorrow I believe."

"Do you have someone to give you a ride, I mean there is no way you can catch the tube in those crutches." Sam eyed Molly's covered legs.

"Detective Inspector offered to see me home when I'm out-"Molly shifted in her bed uncomfortably.

"Oh, I didn't know you two where-"

"Huh?" Molly turned a bright red "No, nothing like that. He's just a friend."

"I thought those sunflowers were from him?" Molly thought she caught a tinge of jealousy in the younger man's voice, but immediately disregarded that thought, she was no doubt still loopy from the pain medication. Sam was just a colleague he never showed any kind of interest in her before, he couldnt even look her in the eye when he spoke to her. Yup, definitely not interested.

"No-no. they weren't. I think someone delivered them to the wrong room."

"Not into sunflowers? You do know they are hard to find this time of year right? Who ever sent them would obviously mean something to you."

Molly just shrugged.

"It's not my business anyway. I-uh better go. Get some sleep Doctor Hooper." Sam frowned again turning quickly on his heels heading back for the door.

"Have a good night Sam, don't let Anderson get to you too much. He's just naturally grumpy." Molly offered kindly.

The young man gave a faint smile and quietly shut the door behind him, his hand lingering briefly on the handle. He heard the DI speaking to that supposed genius in the hall.

"Well, Clarke and Daniels will meet us there. It's still light out for another two hours. Plenty of time to take a look around."

"Oh, Lestrade that's what flashlights are for."

"I have Donovan going around to the maintenance mans house to question him. "

"Don't bother. He didn't do this to John. Its was someone else. That man was a small time criminal angry at the work he is forced to take due to his criminal history. No, not a man capable of attempted murder."

"Do you think it was our killer."

"One of them. I don't want your men ruining the crime scene."

"Yeah, yeah. Lead the way Detective Inspector." Sherlock started paused mid stride "Oh, don't give me that look. I want my ID card back. I know you have one of em. How else did you gain access to the shop? Don't even try to tell me you haven't nicked it."

Sherlock straightened now, head high.

"Greg, I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

"Give it here." Lestrade held his hand out, "Sherlock-"

"In my defense you were being dull at the time I acquired it. I had every intention on giving it back but I forgot. " the taller man rolled his eyes handing a warrant card back to the inspector.

"Sure. Just keep your hands out of my pockets."


	9. Chapter 9 THE SECRETS IN ROOMS

**CHAPTER 9. THE SECRETS IN ROOMS**

"Daniels will bring the Doctor once he's cleared." Lestrade stated handing a flashlight to the consulting detective.

"And Clarke?"

"He's already on the way, Donovan and Anderson will be here as well, if this is the place we are doing this by the book."  
"Yes, yes. So what you're saying is we need to find what we've come for before the others walk all over the evidence. "

"Well that's one way to look at it."

"Right, better hurry then." Lestrade only rolled his eyes and the two men entered into the side door still unlocked, Sherlock had forgotten in his haste to get to John to lock it as the groundskeeper had requested.

Sherlock started to stomp around searching for a trap door or anything that may be a way into the basement, so sure there was one. Lestrade found the inside lights and switched them on looking around for any other doors when Sherlock came across a piece of floor with more of a hallow sound than the other areas, except a large display table stood over it, he moved it aside finding a trap door.

"Found it!" he pulled on the small metal ring and the door opened shining his light below he could see a ladder leading down into the darkness. Without a word he tossed his flashlight down into the opening, several feet down it bounced and rolled exposing a dirt floor.

Lestrade had wondered to the back of the shop he could see a door slightly opened, he guessed this room with the blinds closed to be an office. The Detective Inspector pushed the door open cautiously and switched on the light.

"What the hell?" his eyes widened, the walls were wallpapered with photographs, black and white pictures of their victims, alive and obviously unaware of being photographed. In several pictures the women weren't even looking in the direction of the camera, "Sherlock!" he yelled receiving no answer, he paused calling out again "Sherlock! Come look at this!" Still no answer "dammit Sherlock what are you getting up to-" he started to turn around when something caught his eye, right in the center of the photograph collage, several pictures of a familiar woman stared directly at him from the nest of pictures. Who ever took these ones hadnt taken them from to far away,how could someone do so without arousing anyone's suspicion.

Scanning the several particular photographs, Lestrade felt sick, his eyes held onto the small cut outs of a very familiar young woman in a white lab coat head down over a microscope, another had the same young pathologist laughing in what Greg knew to be the hospital cafeteria.

Hearing the sound of footsteps on floorboards behind him caused him to tense, "Sherlock, you bastard what did I say about wondering off-" Lestrade had pulled the pictures of Molly from the wall turning around to reprimand the consulting detective, except it wasn't Sherlock in the door way.

"When did you get here?" Greg wondered why this man was here, he shouldn't be here yet, who sent him?

"You cant have her." The younger man stated coldly and Lestrade's eyes fell on the handgun now aimed directly at him.

"You wont get away with this." Lestrade growled refusing to show weakness,

"I already have."

Sherlock studied the dirt floor, finding several foot prints, and what looked like drag marks. He examined the ladder he just came down, the wood wasn't stained at all with blood or fingerprints other than his own. "Interesting" He murmured and continued down the small walk way, finding several wilting Sunflowers in the dirt as if they'd fell here, as well as orchids and daisies. A wheel barrow was leaning against the far wall of this narrow walk way, after several meters he came to another ladder, the wood was the same material and just as clean, except he found hospital brand shoe covers littering the foot of it, the same kind used in surgery. He started up the ladder deducing he was under the green house.

Opening the hinged overhead door he shined his flashlight around confirming his deduction, this was the greenhouse. He could hear the slight trickling of water from the far corner, he flashed his light across the aisles of growing flowers and vines. In the farthest corner he could make out a large metal wash basin filled partly with water, someone had forgotten to shut the tap completely off, water slowly streamed out of the brass faucet.

Sherlock knew this is where the bodies were cleaned up, once again his deduction was confirmed when upon further investigation of the tub a woman's blouse floating in the murky water. Suddenly the still cold evening air was pierced by two loud bangs, that sound he could identify immediately as gunshots.

~0~

John used the ointment on the patches of red hives marking his neck and face, he half listened to officer Daniels who happened to be a "big" fan of the blog.

"The solar system? Really Doctor? Oh and the one about the crutch, who would have thought!"

The polite chatter made John very grateful that his headache was gone, John leaned back into his seat also glad the eye drops he'd taken before leaving the hospital had cleared up his vision and helped with the pain of irritated tear ducts.

"What in the hell?" Daniels swore leaning forward until his chest was directly pressed against the steering wheel. John followed the direction the officer was staring towards with disbelief.

The sun had long gone down, but some kind of bright light was dancing blurry in the distance, as they neared the small flower shop John thought he could see a large bonfire.

Daniels accelerated speeding up to get closer, John was leaning forward, squinting, wondering what would glow so orange against the cloudless night sky.

"Shit!" Daniels gasped, reaching for his radio he quickly requested a fire truck to their location, while John frantically dialed Sherlock's number praying that his friend wasn't in the building that he and Lestrade were standing outside out of harms way, but this hope was crushed when it went straight to voice mail.


	10. Chapter 10 BURN!

**CHAPTER 10. BURN!**

Sherlock could see the small flower shop from where he stood, he dashed back into the greenhouse, sliding down the ladder quickly, and sprinting down the underground passage it would be faster, smoke was starting to trickle down but he placed his scarf over his face and climbed up the ladder, no need for the flash light the orange flames consuming the empty stands and displays was light enough, Sherlock searched for any sign of Lestrade.

"Lestrade!" he choked. "Greg!" damn why hadn't he texted first before rushing in, for all he knew the DI could be outside. He heard something, his ears drowning out the crackle and snapping of the wood structure, his own beating heart and labored breathing, all of it blocked out.

"Help!" he made his way towards the back office. He could hear sirens in the distance.

"Sherlock!" John was yelling outside, he was about to run in when the familiar figure that was Sherlock burst from the flames like a bat out of hell, but he was holding someone up, and John went into Doctor mode.

"Jesus! Is he breathing?" Officer Daniels was asking, Sherlock couldn't reply he was too busy trying to breath himself.

"Yes, he's breathing." John announced. "Greg?" , he put a hand to his friends neck, his pulse was low. "Daniels! Officer Daniels! Focus" John snapped, the young man gave the doctor his full attention pulling his eyes from the unconscious DI. "I need you to put pressure on this, we have to slow the bleeding down.

"Someone shot him." Sherlock was standing looking around he didn't see any cars but someone was there, they had shot the DI and ran, where could they hide. John was coughing harshly as well, his lungs still not recovered from the greenhouse incident.

Sergeant Donovan and Anderson arrived just as the paramedics were loading the DI into the ambulance. Sherlock could see the DI was clutching something in his hand. He gently opened the clenched fingers, revealing folded up pieces of paper, not just paper photographs. Three, had been folded together in haste.

"Daniels!" Sherlock growled ignoring Sergeant Donovan's questions "We need to go to the hospital!"

"I agree, smoke inhalation can be dangerous."

"Not for that you twit-" Sherlock growled followed by coughing.

"Sherlock. He's right let the ambulance look you over."

"No time! We have to get to the hospital! Look!" Sherlock showed John the photos that Lestrade had been clutching.

_**~0~**_

"Doctor Hooper. Oh good you're up."

"Sam, whats wrong?"Molly had been practicing with her crouches, the hospital robe she wore was a few sizes too big so it kept tripping her up. She paused as the young forensics officer nearly burst through the door.

"We'll I've made a mess of things."

"What's wrong?" Molly was instantly concerned, he looked pale and nervous.

"Well it's the automated analyzer."

"Oh no Sam, that's brand new don't tell me it's broken."

"I dont know. And that old crone has no idea how to operate it. If I don't get these samples in I'm done. Anderson will have me running urinalysis on every addict and drunk we get in for processing, for the rest of my life!"

"Calm down Sam. It's fine. We can figure it out." Molly smiled easily putting a hand on her friends shoulder.  
"I'll just pop down there. I have to practice on these anyway."

"Thank you Molly you are such an angel." Sam went to hold the door open for the young pathologist.  
She looked stopped just outside her room.  
"I should let the guys know I mean they were watching my room."

"Oh, didnt you hear, they caught the guy. So the PC's on guard duty were sent home."

"Oh, what a relief. Do they know who he was."

"I dont know I just know they were pretty excited."

"Funny, I wish they'd of said something."

"They probably didn't want to bother you."  
Molly glanced again at her door and shrugged she followed Sam down the corridor towards the elevator. She thought she could smell camp fire, maybe he had a fireplace, if Sherlock were here he would say for certain.

"Are you ok going back down to the dungeons?" Sam hit the basement button for the lab as the elevator doors closed Doctor Howards had stepped out from the lift just across from the one the doors were closing on. Hicks thought he had a look of disapproval but he cold care less what an old gimp thought.


	11. Chapter 11 WATER

**CHAPTER 11. WATER**

Molly stepped off the elevator, Sam held the door "After you Madame." She ducked her head down blushing; everyone was just being so nice.

"You really have no idea how much I appreciate this." Sam opened the lab door.

The first thing Molly could hear was the sound of running water, one of the sinks had been left on. She limped over, leaning on one crutch leaving the other by the door. It wasn't so hard to make her way around after all. "Someone left the water on." She turned the valve, water was already spilling over onto the clean floor. Looking down at the basin, she noticed something yellow pedals. Reaching into the cold water she found several "Sunflowers?" turning slowly she could see Sam standing beside the doors, the only exit.

"You don't like them? I think sunflowers are absolutely beautiful. Always so bright and dark all at once. It's like they'll always be half way between living and death. Forever just frozen in time, and they are so absolutely difficult to kill. The perfect flower really."

"Sam-I don't feel so well I think I should go back upstairs."

"But Molly I thought you were going to help me." Sam moved towards her now, the smaller woman edged away from the basin, holding her crutch, clutching the rubber grip ready to use it as a weapon. "Why don't you like me Molly?"

"What? Of course I like you Sam." She tried to sound convincing flashing a shaky smile. "I just would like to go now." A cold chill ran up her spine.

"Is it because you like that DI? He's too old for you. Besides he wasn't hard to get out of the way." Molly froze her eyes searching the younger man's.

"Sam? What do you mean?"

"You liked him didn't you?" He looked crestfallen, almost heartbroken, but Molly could feel an edge there, one of dark anger and she knew she needed to tread lightly. Her heart was pounding in her chest, she searched frantically for an exit but he was still there in front of it.

"No. He was only a friend. Did-did you send me those flowers?"

"And the notes, I tried calling you but I got so damn nervous and didn't know what to say when you answered. You're so smart and beautiful and funny. I know I'm not a Doctor, or a DI but I like science, I mean being a forensics officer isn't too bad. I did take the crime scene photography job just to be closer to you."

"I-I am flattered." Molly tried to think quick.

"You are? Oh, I thought you would think I was creepy?"

"Of course not. It's sweet. I just wish you would have said something sooner. Before I fell down-"

"Oh!" He put his hands up defensively. "That accident wasn't my fault! You see my stupid lug of a brother, he's an idiot that works at a flower shop. And he was supposed to keep watch in the hall while I tried to leave you a message upstairs in your office. Then I saw that you threw my flowers out. And he thought he could just take you. I'm sorry you got hurt-"

"Oh-is is he hear tonight too?" Molly edged along the wall.

"He helped me burn the evidence. I mean those other girls didn't mean anything. I didn't do anything with them. You-you know that you autopsied their bodies." Molly felt sick, this young man had such a deceptively innocent face, but underneath the surface she knew lived a monster.

"You and your brother-why?"

"They weren't you. And they couldn't act like you. So-" he shrugged. "They were whores, that's why I had to wash them. They weren't really clean. Not like you." He moved closer she thought of screaming but there wasn't anyone down there.

"What, what about the officers outside my door?"

"Easy I told them that the DI said they weren't needed. They were more than happy to go home."

"Such a clever man." She grinned, her voice still shaky.

"Yeah, I thought so too. Do you think you could maybe give me a chance."

"Sure-sure Sam. I would love too. But first I would like to get back to my room, my leg hurts."

"Yeah, you wont be going back up to the room. I'll just take care of you at home. I hoped to take you home tomorrow but then that DI had to stick his nose where it didn't belong." Molly tried not to think about what he was saying, she prayed Greg wasn't hurt or dead.

"I-I need to grab a few things."

"No, I'll get whatever you need. I know where you live. I'll even bring your cats."

Molly knew she had one chance, and she needed to make it count. "Alright, but the floor is really wet can you grab me one of those towels so I can at least mop this up a bit. Safety first."

"Oh, of course. Molly you have such a good heart! I'll clean it up." He grabbed a stack of white towels from the table beside him, she tried not to flinch as he moved closer crouching down with the towels mopping up the water at her fee.

"I'm glad you agreed. I was going to drown you if you hadn't." Molly gave a nervous laugh, he was soaking up the water and she took her chance, bringing her crutch up like a cricket bat she struck him hard the first blow just across his back the force knocked him onto his side stunned. She hit out again and again until he was still. Dropping the crutch she hobbled towards the door. Hands shaking, she could hear him groaning, "Bitch!" he growled. "I knew it! You're just as bad as the others!"

Molly didn't wait to hear more she was already through the doors taking up her other crutch she placed it hard against the door, pushing the door's handle into the rubber grip, pinning the door shut with shaky hands. She hobbled away, leaning against the wall for support, her heart pounding in her throat, she could hear a crash from behind the doors, and then swearing. He must have slipped on the water, serves him right. She took deep breaths trying to calm her trembling leg and arms. Knowing that the lab was good as locked and no matter how he pulled at the door it wasn't going to budge.

"Oh, where you going love?" the familiar voice growled. Molly froze nearly falling over at the sight of the big man dressed in dirty coveralls. She knew he was the one who had fallen with her down the stairs, and now he advanced forward.


	12. Chapter 12 SHOCKING

**CHAPTER 12. SHOCKING**

"Molly! There you are." Doctor Howards was stepping around the big man in dirty coveralls.

"Doctor-Doctor! Run!" Molly tried to warn him.

"Hmm what's that." The Doctor stood next to the trembling girl, he shot a curious look towards the morgue doors, hearing the loud pounding. "Oh, sounds like someone's locked in. Well anyway. What are you doing out of bed young lady? You don't have permission to be up just yet."

"D-D-Doctor?" Molly tried to keep breathing she thought she was going to be sick, they had to get out of here, fast and now poor Doctor Howards had no idea what he was walking into.

"Come along now." He took her uninjured arm gently, acting as if he didn't see the big man looming threateningly over them.

"She aint goin no where gramps."

"Pardon?" Doctor Howards released Molly's arm, cocking an eyebrow he tilted his head to look over the taller man.

"Yeah heard me. Get going. She's staying right here."

"That so? Miss. Hooper do you know this man?"

The young Pathologist was to shocked to reply, was the Doctor crazy, didn't he know this man was a killer? "I'll take that as a no. Sorry son doesn't look like she's much interested. Now if you'll excuse us."

"I guess you didn't hear me too good. She is going with me."

"Oh, young men these days are so pushy. They have no manners what so ever. Now, I'm going to give you a chance, just one to apologize to the young lady here and then you're going to get on your knees and put your hands behind your head."

"Or?"

"Or, I'll do it for you." Molly could hear the icy undertone in that threat.

"You? I'd like to see you try gramps you don-" It happened all so quickly, the pathologist could hardly believe her eyes. The older Doctor sent a hard chop to the bigger man's throat causing the aggressor to choke and sputter.

"I really hate to fight in front of a lady but, sometimes it's just necessary. Miss Hooper go on now. I'll take care of this over grown child you go call security if you think you can walk. Go on." The older Doctor brought a knee up hard into the gasping man's torso.

"Molly!" Sherlock nearly collided with the limping young Doctor.

"Sherlock! John!" she felt déjà vu. "It's Sam! And-"

"It's alright Molly are you ok?" Sherlock had his hands on Molly's thin shoulders, his gray eyes studying her face.

"Yes. Help the Doctor-" She turned around to see John holding a zip tie, out to the awaiting hand of Doctor Howards. As if the two were in surgery and the dark haired man was asking for a scalpel from the blond.

"I think the Doctor's can take care of the rest." Sherlock said this in an amused tone. His head tilting as he studied the dark haired Doctor. "John. I think if you ever have a need for a day off or a vacation I may have found your replacement."

"Right, and I would return to a dead flatmate because I doubt anyone but me is willing to put up with your mad antics."

"This an everyday thing for you two?" Doctor Howards was asking slightly out of breath.

"Well sometimes I just have work and grocery shopping to do. And don't get me started on the body parts in the fridge."

"Oh, yeah that's a definite deal breaker. I did have a flatmate back in UNI that kept frogs and mice for dissecting in our small freezer. Learned real quick to avoid reaching into the fridge when the light was out, looking for beer or what have you."

"Yeah, it is surprising how fingers and fish fingers resemble each other at three am." The navy Doctor looked at the army Doctor and both men laughed.

"Doctors if you are done. I do believe we have one more assailant."

"I-I locked him in the lab." Molly pointed at the doors where her crutch still pinned the doors shut. "He was shouting earlier. Be careful."

"John." Sherlock nodded and both men shared a quick glance.

"Sammy! They're coming for you! Two of em! One's got a gun!" The man in the coveralls squirmed.

"Doctor Howards if you could help our guest to be quiet and hold still." the dark haired detective asked in a clipped tone.

"Aye, aye Sir." Howards kneeled down turned the Mr. Pushy Coveralls Man over and sent a jaw jarring teeth rattling hit to the man's face. And he was out.

"Pretty quick thinking Molly using your crutch like that." John moved towards the door.

"Alright Sam, it's over. We got your brother."

"Yeah! Yeah! I surrender, come get me." The man growled. John looked at to Sherlock he moved towards the door, John held his gun ready, Doctor Howards had a foot firmly planted into the middle of the now subdued and unconscious accomplice.

Sherlock removed the crutch, and opened the door, their was no movement, just the sound of running water, the detective could see that the lights were flickering. Sam was standing at the far end of the morgue near the basin.

"Come on it's over Hicks." John yelled.

"You lot think you're so much smarter then me?" John followed behind Sherlock holding the browning up taking aim. Sherlock noticed the water on the floor almost right away, and the mad grin on Hicks's face. Something was wrong.

"The gun! Hicks where is it?" John growled.

"Oh you mean the one I killed your dear DI with?"

"No, he's not dead. You sir are anything but a good shot." Sherlock smirked. "However, Doctor Watson is a crack shot. So, I'll repeat, The. Gun. Now."

"Liar. I saw to it personally left him dead. And you want the gun here take it." He moved slowly revealing the weapon he tossed it onto the floor it slid just a few feet in front of him. John continued to hold his browning steady, Sherlock moved to pick up the weapon, stepping into the puddle of water.

John could see the grin and knew immediately something was off, then he saw it, the flickering lights above, exposed wire, running down from lights, to somewhere behind the mad man.

John moved quickly and pulled Sherlock back roughly out of the puddle just as that crazy bastard Hicks, plunged the wire into the basin.

Lighting up the puddle, and the metal basin as well as the man holding the wire.

John was pulling Sherlock and himself clear, sparks showering down from the shattering bulbs above, and the deafening sounds of popping and crackling echoed through the room, the hall outside dimming and a fire sparked inside the morgue.


	13. Chapter 13 Quiet company of Friends

**CHAPTER 13. Quiet company of Friends**

"Well that's shocking." Sherlock stated easily.

"Really Sherlock?" John stood up putting his gun away. "That's all you have to say?"

Sherlock shrugged "Should we put him out, or just let him continue to smolder?" John shook his head wearily, his skin starting to itch again.

Sherlock approached Molly who was sitting with a shock blanket thrown over her shoulders. Doctor Howards was looking her over, examining her stitches, "Alright get her upstairs." He ordered the paramedics. "Now Molly, I don't want to see you out of bed until you're cleared. So you young lady make yourself at home and enjoy the peace and quiet."

"I can walk I don't need a stretcher." She protested weakly.

"Come on ma'am you can lean on me we'll walk you upstairs." One of the younger paramedics offered his arm. She ducked her head hating the attention, but the young paramedic was persistent. "And you can tell me exactly where you learned to use crouches like that."

John held back a laugh watching the blush spread over the usually shy pathologist being led away by two very tall somewhat handsome young men. Clearly both men were interested in hearing the exciting details of that nights events.

"Well Doctor Watson. I do believe my shift was over two hours ago. You gentlemen have a wonderful night. I must say it hasn't been a boring day. Oh, and Doctor Watson you should put some hydrocortisone that rash."

Sherlock finished speaking to one of the constables as the two Doctor's started to argue, making their way to the elevator.

"I know how to treat myself thank you-"  
"Well obviously not if you haven't even applied the cream to that, really what did they treat you in that army? You brown job boys-"

"Shut it Howards! I wasn't on some cruise boat sun bathing. I wont have some Jenny telling me- "

"Jenny? You bloody-" Sherlock rolled his eyes stepping past the two Doctors into the elevator allowing the doors to shut on the Doctor's who were too wrapped up in their argument to notice the lift leaving without them, until Sherlock had already reached his destination.

He went to the room he knew to be Greg's easily gaining the information needed from Constable Rollins.

"Oh, hello Sherlock." Molly smiled brightly.

"Molly?" He paused.

"I thought I'd return the favor. You know, no one likes to wake up in a hospital alone." Sherlock nodded pulling out a chair next to the DI.

"I noticed Mr. Huggins caught you on the back of your hand." Sherlock didn't reply. "Thanks though for feeding them."

"You're welcome."

"Looks worse than it is." Molly motioned towards the DI. " He'll be a little sore tomorrow. Nurse Tonya said he'll be out in a few days. He should come around soon." Molly sighed easily sitting back in her chair comfortably, and waited watching the steady breathing of the detective inspector. He really was quiet handsome, even with an oxygen mask covering his usually somewhat clean shaven face, and his silver hair disheveled. She sometimes wondered what it would feel like to rub her hands on his chin, feeling the stubble scratch her fingers.

Perhaps when he woke up he would be thirsty and she could offer him a sip of cool water, and maybe after they were both on the mend she could ask him out for coffee. Having beat a man with her crutches, she should be able to ask the DI out for a simple coffee, right?

"Molly?" the baritone voice snapped her out of her daydream.

"Yes Sherlock."

"Do you think Mr. Huggins will very much mind if John feeds him and the other one?"

"I'm sure Mr. Huggins and Skitters wouldn't mind. Just as long as they ate." She didnt allow her eyes to leave the sleeping DI's face.

"I'll let him know." Sherlock stood up slowly. She smiled easily "Greg likes cats." Sherlock offered offhandedly and left the room quietly. Later in the night, DI Lestrade coughed into the oxygen mask, his eyes red rimmed opening slowly.

"Water?" Molly offered him a straw and he drank gratefully. She could read the questions in the detective inspector's searching eyes.

"Everyone is alright." And she went on to explain the nights events easily in her usually soft and bright tone.

**THE END**


End file.
